


Last First Time

by flaming_muse



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-27 12:56:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not until the end of Kurt and Blaine’s second first date - the one after they finally, officially stop tiptoeing around their issues and feelings and decide to work them out and get back together in the spring before Blaine graduates from McKinley - that it gets awkward.</p>
<p>set soon after the end of season four, no spoilers for season five, I promise</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Often, somewhere in the month before the new season starts, I am struck with an idea that will be totally jossed within the first episode. I struggle and fight not to write the idea and let canon takes its course, and then I find myself having to write it, anyway, because I want to play with it my way before I have to give the characters back to the show and the writers get to pick what actually happens. (I wrote Blaine transferring to McKinley and Kurt and Blaine’s first time before season three started, for example, though I didn’t know either was happening.)
> 
> I am unspoiled. I do not know what is happening in season five of Glee. I work very hard at it. I’m pretty sure it won’t be this, but I can promise you that this fic has nothing to do with spoilers or speculation. It simply has to do with me being unable to get the idea out of my head of what the first time together for Kurt and Blaine could be like after they get back together, if they ever get back together.
> 
> (I mention all of this because it's obvious from how season four ends that something will happen between them in early season five, whether it's a slap in the face or a long overdue conversation, and I really don't want you to tell me what it is.)
> 
> And I apologize for the trite title. :)

_”Really?” Blaine whispers against Kurt’s cheek, hugging him so tightly, maybe too tightly, but he can’t let go. He’s already asked that exact question, but he can’t stop himself from doing it again, either._

_Kurt nods against him, holding on just as hard. He laughs as he says another time, “Really, Blaine.” He rests his temple against Blaine’s. “I’m never going to stop being in love with you. I’m not. And I don’t want to fight it anymore.”_

_“I love you, too,” Blaine says around the huge lump of emotion in his throat, joy and relief and a healthy measure of terror at messing things up again all in one._

_“Go out with me?” Kurt asks, pulling back enough to look him in the eye. He looks a little teary but just as happy as Blaine feels and absolutely sure in this fresh new moment, but then Kurt’s rarely been afraid of failure once he’s set his mind on something. “Before I go back to New York? On a real date, just us. To make it official.”_

_“Yes,” Blaine replies without a second’s hesitation. “Yes. Anywhere. Whenever you want.”_

 

It’s not until the end of Kurt and Blaine’s second first date - the one after they finally, officially stop tiptoeing around their issues and feelings and decide to work them out and get back together in the spring before Blaine graduates from McKinley - that it gets awkward.

The date itself is wonderful. An impeccably dressed Kurt picks up Blaine at his house, they have dinner at Breadstix for tradition’s sake, and then they walk around Lima and end up sitting in the Lima Bean talking and laughing and sometimes holding hands for hours until it closes. It feels so _easy_ , really, despite all that happened in the nearly a year they’ve been apart. It feels easy and right to be together again, bumping their feet beneath the table and smiling so much Blaine’s cheeks ache and his heart feels like it’s going to burst from it by the time they get back to Kurt’s borrowed car.

It’s all so familiar and easy and absolutely wonderful. It feels like they never stopped and something new all at once, and not a bit of it is uncomfortable. Blaine was sure they’re meant to be together, but the date just proves it. This is exactly how they’re supposed to be.

But then it’s the end of the night and they’re back in the car, not quite looking at each other as they close the doors, not moving to buckle themselves in but not leaning over the center console for a kiss, either. And it’s awkward. At least it feels awkward to Blaine, because they’re at a tipping point, a place where they have a choice to make about what happens next, and it could be the wrong one. There didn’t used to _be_ a wrong one, because Blaine had always felt that whatever choice they made together had to be right, but he’d sure proven how badly things could go from a single misstep. He doesn’t want to jump the way he always has with Kurt. Well, he _wants_ to, but he shouldn’t. As good as things feel, he can’t assume that everything is repaired.

“I’m so used to everything staying open late in New York,” Kurt says wistfully, looking down the street at the darkened storefronts. The Lima Bean’s lights flick off in front of them, and he sits there in profile for a moment, beautiful and remote, before sliding his key into the ignition. He turns his face to Blaine with a melancholy shrug. “I guess it’s time to go home.”

Blaine nods as his heart falls, and he makes himself smile as he says, “I’ve had a great night, Kurt.” He’s not ready for it to be over, but it’s been wonderful, and he has to be happy with that. He _is_ happy with it. For the first time in what feels like forever, he’s going to get to go home and fall asleep as Kurt’s boyfriend, even if he’s still falling asleep without him. At least he’ll be able to text him a goodnight heart and get one in return. Even thinking of it makes his smile turn genuine and elated. He’s Kurt’s _boyfriend_.

Kurt starts the engine of his father’s car, backs carefully out of the spot, and then reaches out his hand to Blaine. He smiles back in the dim light of the street. “I have, too. It’s been wonderful.”

“Definitely.” Trying not to hold on too tightly, Blaine strokes his thumb over Kurt’s hand as they drive back to his house. Kurt’s skin is as soft as it ever was, his fingers long and perfect, and Blaine never wants to let him go. Not tonight, not ever. He wishes he didn’t have to, especially so soon, especially when there’s another choice.

His parents are away for a few days, and before it would have been obvious that he should invite Kurt inside. Even if they’d just watched movies and made out some until curfew, even if it hadn’t led to sex, they’d always jumped on the opportunity to have time alone together. It was precious and rare. But now it feels like extending the invitation might be assuming something or be pushing them faster than is wise, and so Blaine doesn’t say anything about it as they spend the ride talking about the clumsy waitress at dinner and whether they should go to the mall or the movies the next day. That they’re going out again at all has to be enough.

They’re laughing and holding hands and _together_. Blaine smiles to himself. It’s more than enough.

Kurt falls into silence as he pulls the car into Blaine’s driveway and kills the ignition. He turns a little in his seat, his eyes searching Blaine’s face. His gaze is weighty and contemplative, and Blaine waits, because he can’t read what’s going on in Kurt’s mind, but he can see it’s quite a lot. He can wait for him to draw whatever conclusions he needs to. It’s been an important night. He can see why there would be things for Kurt to think about.

As the seconds tick on and Kurt stays silence, Blaine just really hopes some of them are _good_ things.

Finally Kurt offers him a self-conscious smile, chews on his lip for a moment, then takes a deep breath, as if for courage. “You said your parents aren’t home?” he says.

Blaine’s heart skips a beat in his chest. The question was nothing like what he expected Kurt to say, which was a polite good night and maybe a few kisses before he had to go. But this is good. This is very good. The night doesn’t have to be over. And they can be alone, and even if that doesn’t lead to sex or anything it’s them, it’s _Kurt_ , it’s - His words come out in a jumble. “Yes. No. I mean, yes, they aren’t home. Do you want to - ?” He gestures at the house.

Kurt’s relieved smile all but bursts out of him, and he slumps a bit back in his seat, like he was holding himself too rigidly and doesn’t need to anymore. “I do,” he says. His eyes go sharp on Blaine’s again. “If that’s okay with you.”

“That would be _amazing_ ,” Blaine assures him, smiling just as widely.

“Okay.” Kurt reaches for his seatbelt, and Blaine throws off his own in his excitement and hurries around the car to open Kurt’s door for him. Kurt shoots him a pleased look and walks beside him up to the front door.

They’ve done this before, dozens of times, maybe hundreds of times, walked up to Blaine’s front door together. They’ve used this house to watch movies, to study together, to hang out with friends, and to bake brownies and cookies and one memorable time even Bananas Foster. (They’d managed to put out the small but persistent kitchen fire before the smoke detectors went off.)

Going to Blaine’s home was something they’d done before, many times, and yet it made Blaine’s heart pound in his throat to put the key in the lock and swing the door open to his quiet house, because he’d done the very same thing on another night, another first time here, and even if he doesn’t want to assume that they’re going to have sex tonight he can’t quite _forget_ that beautiful night together and how it started so simply with them coming inside and him offering Kurt something to drink.

It makes Blaine’s throat go dry to remember how gorgeous and loving Kurt had been that night, how much Kurt had trusted him, and to think that he might actually be on the road to regaining that trust fully once more. It’s overwhelming. It’s like a balm to his heart, which has ached and been reaching out for _so long_ now.

But this is a different night, a different place in their relationship, a different beginning, and as easy as it is to slip back into old patterns he wants to do something new.

“Are you thirsty?” Blaine asks - and then cringes internally, because the offer is hardly new - as he closes the door.

“We just spent three hours at the Lima Bean after a long dinner out,” Kurt says, tilting his head and laughing. “I’m the opposite of thirsty. In fact, if you’ll excuse me - “ He nods toward the back hallway.

“Oh! Of course.” Blaine takes a step back as Kurt heads toward the powder room. He puts his keys on the table and smooths down his shirt. He wonders if he should take his shoes off. He usually does that in his room, but they’re kind of pinching, and if they’re going to be hanging out for a while he’d like to be casual about it. He’d like to be able for them both get comfortable. But he also doesn’t want to make it seem like they’re undressing when -

Blaine jerks his head up when he hears the toilet flush, and he wonders if it’s creepy if he’s standing here listening, not that he’s _listening_ , it was just the flush, but -

Mortified by his own unexpected awkwardness, he hurries into the kitchen and gets down two glasses, filling them with water and leaning his hip against the counter just as Kurt strolls back in. “Hi,” he says. He feels a little breathless, but he hopes it isn’t obvious.

“Hi,” Kurt says with a smile. He accepts the glass Blaine pushes toward him and takes a small sip before putting it back down on the counter.

The silence grows between them, and Blaine can’t really tell if it’s comfortable or uncomfortable. Kurt’s face is soft and open in a way Blaine’s been wanting to see for so very long, and his body is a relaxed curve against the kitchen island, but he’s quiet, and Blaine doesn’t know why. He assumes it’s a good silence, but he doesn’t know if he should say something to break it or if he should just lean in and kiss him the way he would have a year ago, back when he was sure of his welcome.

Not that he’s _unsure_ now. Kurt wouldn’t have agreed to get back together with him if he didn’t want Blaine. He certainly wouldn’t have kissed him then, and after, and at the door tonight when he picked him up. It’s just... he loves what they had together, and he wants it back, but he doesn’t want to assume that it’s going to be just the way that it was when what it was ended up hurting them both so much.

Still, if it’s going to be different, he knows where to start, because he loves Kurt, and if he doesn’t have to hold back loving Kurt anymore there’s only one way he can go, which is forward, toward him, with him, always, always with him.

Blaine slides his hand across the smooth granite so that his fingers rest on top of Kurt’s. They’re cool from the glass and the stone but still make Blaine’s blood turn hot. They’re his to touch again. He doesn’t have to hold back. “I don’t want to presume - “ he begins softly.

Just barely grinning, Kurt hooks a finger from his free hand in the placket of Blaine’s shirt and tugs him closer. “Blaine,” he says, dipping his head so that he’s close enough that his breath fans Blaine’s mouth. “Please presume. I don’t want you to treat this like you’re wearing kid gloves. I want us to be us.”

“So do I,” Blaine says, his gaze lifting from Kurt’s mouth to his eyes.

Kurt smooths his fingertips down Blaine’s chest and up again, sliding his hand over Blaine’s shoulder and stepping in the last few inches. “So be us. Come kiss me. I mean, I assume that’s what you were presuming, not that you were going to demand that I get a tattoo of your name on my hip or stop singing anything but duets with you or only wear black or something.”

“No,” Blaine laughs, ducking his head a little and getting a hand on Kurt’s waist. “Just the kissing. I’d never tell you what to wear or to sing.”

“And the tattoo?”

“Totally up for discussion,” Blaine assures him.

“Well, then,” Kurt says warmly, his mouth brushing against Blaine’s cheek. “Presume away.”

Blaine’s still grinning when their mouths meet, and while it’s not the first time he’s kissed Kurt and not even the first time he’s kissed Kurt _today_ , it still makes his heart race like it did that day back in Dalton, when he was terrified and head over heels and totally over his head and exactly where he wanted to be. And he’s all of those things now, too, tempered by experience with and memories of Kurt’s soft, wonderful lips and soft, wonderful heart, and he sinks into the kiss, grateful, needy, and a little overwhelmed to find himself back here again, not just hooking up but being let in.

Blaine kisses him harder with that thought, cupping Kurt’s face, touching his shoulders, and skimming his hands up his sides. This isn’t stolen time like at Valentine’s Day. This is real. This is them.

That realization takes the edge off of his desperation but makes everything sweeter, knowing that he can card his fingers through Kurt’s hair without the threat of driving him away, knowing that Kurt’s not going to reject him at the end of the night, knowing that he’s going to get to do this again and again.

Smiling against Kurt’s lips, Blaine turns them so Kurt’s against the counter but doesn’t crowd him there. He doesn’t need to. It’s not about stoking a fast-burning fire; it’s about getting to be warm again after being cold for so long.

Blaine just kisses him over and over, gets kissed back just as intently, every touch precious, every touch important. It’s all so important. This time he’s not just getting the luxury of Kurt’s touch; he’s getting _Kurt_.

“Blaine,” Kurt whispers a long while later between long, dreamy kisses, his arms draped over Blaine’s shoulders.

“Mmm?” Blaine tenderly brushes his thumb along the edge of Kurt’s jaw and kisses him again, mesmerized by the feel of his warm, mobile mouth and the way it opens so readily for him.

“I love you.” Kurt’s words are barely audible, but they sink right into Blaine’s heart, sharp and painful... but in a good way. A clean way. Like a wound that needs to be opened so that it can heal over completely. It hurts, but for once it’s a good hurt. Kurt _loves him_. Finally. Still.

“I love you, too,” Blaine says thickly, wrapping both arms around his waist. “So much, Kurt, I - “

“I know.” Kurt rolls his forehead against Blaine’s and holds him close. His arms feel so strong and secure, without a hint of hesitation in them, and Blaine leans against him, lets Kurt take some of his weight, and feels a heaviness lift off his heart for good. He breathes in and out and feels lighter than he has in months.

Kurt dips his head again and brushes his mouth against Blaine’s. “I know the smart thing is for us to take it all slowly,” he says softly. “I know we should rebuild, step by step, so we don’t make the same mistakes again.”

Blaine nods, barely able to breathe. He looks up to watch Kurt’s face, which is open and serious, watching him back. He slides his hands up Kurt’s spine, unable to stop touching him.

“But,” Kurt continues and gives a helpless little shrug, “it’s you. It’s you, Blaine, and I know you. I trust you. You’re still my best friend. And this isn’t our first date. It’s our second first date. Our last first date.”

“Our last first date,” Blaine echoes, his heart pounding out _trust-trust-he trusts me_. “I like that.”

Kurt smiles at him again. “I do, too.” He looks at him for a moment, just looks at him, and then says, “I just want to kiss you, Blaine. I want to kiss you, and I want you to touch me, and I don’t want to have to stop.”

Blaine nods, and all he wants to do is say okay. “I want that, too,” he says, and he wants it so much he aches with it, because all he wants is Kurt, to be with him, to be connected to him, to be wrapped up with him and back in his heart and have everything be okay. “But I don’t want to - “ He doesn’t even know what he’s afraid of, why he’d say no, but it all distills down to one thought. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

“I know.” Kurt draws his fingertips along the back of Blaine’s neck, making the hair there stand on end with the delicate touch. “I want it to be right. I know we hooked up before, I know that spark is still there between us, but that’s not what I want, either. It’s not about having sex for me, not like that.”

“No,” Blaine agrees. “I mean, that was amazing, Kurt, it’s always amazing with you, but I want more than that.” It had felt like a tiny handhold for a man clinging to a cliff, a spot of hope, and a whole heck of a lot of pleasure, but it had also felt incomplete. Kurt had been holding back so much of his heart. They hadn’t been fully connected. It might have been about love, but they couldn’t talk about it that way. Kurt, at least, didn’t want to admit he had feelings at all. And as much as Blaine had been encouraged by Kurt wanting to have sex with him he’d also been very aware that it could be the last time. Nothing but that night was on offer. Nothing else was guaranteed.

He doesn’t want any of that again, no.

“We already _are_ more than that,” Kurt says. “And I want to build everything again, better than before.” He slides his fingers into Blaine’s hair at the nape of his neck, his eyelids drooping for just a second. “But this isn’t our first date. We might have things to figure out, but we’re not starting from scratch. This isn’t the beginning of our story; we’re somewhere in the middle.”

Blaine nods. “What do you want, Kurt?” he asks gently.

“I want to be close to you, and I don’t want February to be our last time together. I want something better.” Kurt shrugs his shoulder like he’s embarrassed. “I want a better memory to hold onto when I’m in New York again.”

“Our last first time,” Blaine says with a smile.

“Exactly,” Kurt replies, smiling back for a moment before growing serious again. His expression is so vulnerable, so tender. “But only if you want to. Blaine, it’s fine if you aren’t ready. I promise I won’t be upset. I just wanted to be honest about how I feel.”

“When have I ever not wanted to?” Blaine asks him, skimming his hands down Kurt’s sides to rest on his trim waist. Kurt’s leather belt is so firm and smooth under his palms.

“That’s hardly a good reason.”

“It is,” Blaine says. “Kurt, it’s you. It’s you I want. I love you. I want to be with you. I’d be very, very happy to get to touch you and love you and have something else to remember when you’re away again and I’m still here.”

Kurt’s face crumples a little, and he cups Blaine’s cheek and says, “It’s not going to be like the last time I left.”

“I know,” Blaine says, and he believes Kurt. He has to. So he smiles and leans up to meet Kurt’s mouth with his own, soft and quick. “And tonight’s not going to be like Valentine’s Day. It’s going to be so much better.”

Kurt’s mouth curls in a knowing, almost wicked smile, the promise and confidence in it making heat curl in Blaine’s stomach. “Is it?” he asks with a lift of his eyebrows.

“You know it is.” Blaine kisses the corner of Kurt’s mouth and the sweep of his upper lip, before kissing him properly, sighing into him, letting it draw out into something slow and meaningful, just their arms around each other and their mouths moving and their hearts beating in time, or at least that’s what it feels like to him.

“So,” he says finally, looking up into Kurt’s beautiful eyes. His heart starts to race, because this is happening. This is _happening_. Kurt’s right; they don’t have to start from scratch, because this isn’t all new. This is all _them_. “Did you want to go upstairs?”

Kurt glances around the kitchen. “But your hardwood floors and granite countertops are so inviting and easy on the knees,” he begins in a voice tinged with sarcasm.

“Come upstairs,” Blaine tells him with a laugh, stepping back and catching his hand. “I know you lust after the kitchen, but let’s go upstairs.”

“I do lust after your kitchen,” Kurt says, following along but looking back longingly over his shoulder at the room.

Blaine laughs again; Kurt’s never been quiet about his admiration for the expanses of countertop and stainless steel appliances. “But not as much as you lust after me? I suppose I should be flattered.”

Kurt stops him with a tug on his hand, standing a few steps below Blaine on the stairs. “Not as much as I _love_ you,” he says quietly, seriously.

“Okay,” Blaine says, just as quiet. His heart feels like it’s melting in his chest, and he’s so glad Kurt wants to do this, whatever they’re going to do, because all he wants to do is touch him and love him until he’s lost in it.

He’s already lost, he’s always been lost, but now he gets to act on it again, and he doesn’t have to hold back anymore, either.

“Come on,” he says, pulling Kurt up the stairs and into his room.

“Well, someone’s very eag- mmph!”

Blaine cuts off Kurt’s next comment by getting his hands on Kurt’s biceps, pushing him up against the closed door, and kissing him quite deliberately, smooth and sweet. He can feel Kurt trembling under his palms and against his chest, but Kurt’s mouth is curved into a smile against his, so Blaine leans up higher on his toes, lets his weight rest against him, and kisses him again and again, more and more, until he’s shaking, too, turned on and needy and really, really happy to be here.

He’s been dreaming of Kurt’s body for months - not so much sexually as being allowed to touch beyond a quick hug, dreams that were more painful to wake up from than the ones with Kurt’s come-hither smoulder - and it’s almost too much to be this close again. Blaine wants to purr against him, rub himself all over him, feel every bit of his body now that he can have it again. He wants to feel the muscles in his arms, kiss up his long legs, map the span of his shoulders and the strength of Kurt’s chest with his fingers, slip his arms around his ribs and hold him close, re-memorize the softness of his hair and all of the tender, hidden spots no one gets to know but him.

Kurt’s broader than he was in the fall. Taller, too. Maybe a little slimmer at the waist. It’s not a huge difference, but he’s not quite the same up against him, not even the same as a few months ago, and Blaine’s sad to see the changes and desperate to explore them all at once. None of them is bad; he just wishes he’d been there to see them all happen.

It doesn’t matter. He’s here now.

“I’m not sure why we had to move from the kitchen if you’re just going to molest me against this door,” Kurt says with a gasp of a laugh as Blaine moves to kiss down his neck. He leans his head back, the muscles of his arms tensing and relaxing under Blaine’s hands. “Blaine, the bed’s _right there_.”

“I thought you liked it when I pushed you up against things and had my way with you,” Blaine says, and he knows Kurt does because he can see the flush on his cheeks and feel the hardness in his very tight jeans. He mouths beneath Kurt’s jaw and down the tendon at the side of his throat. Kurt smells of aftershave, laundry detergent, and his own skin, and the familiar combination goes straight to Blaine’s groin.

“Blaine,” Kurt laughs again, shivering as Blaine sucks gently at the skin at the edge of his collar. “I’d like to have my way with _you_ , too.”

Blaine looks up again him again. “Would you?” he asks, a little surprised. Not that Kurt’s ever been passive, but he’s not usually quite so verbal about what he wants.

Kurt raises his eyebrows and says very calmly, “Isn’t that the point, Blaine?”

“I - “ Blaine blinks at him and tries to clear his head a little, which is hard when everything he’s touching and smelling and tasting is Kurt. It’s not that he wants to argue; he just wants to _keep kissing him_.

Lifting his hands and freeing his arms, Kurt cups Blaine’s face, his palms so warm and big against his cheeks, and kisses him gently. “Come to bed,” he says, right into Blaine’s eyes. He’s so close. He’s so close and right there with him, for once not pulling away. His smile quirks up, a little ironic, and he sings, whisper-soft, “Let’s go all the way tonight. No regrets, just love.”

Blaine’s heart thumps hard in his chest, and it feels a bit strange, like it’s made of sharp, brittle pieces all fitted together again and not quite whole, but it’s good. It’s right. They’re back together, and it’s all right.

There’s a dreamy moment of deja-vu for Blaine after Kurt sits on the edge of the bed to take off his boots and Blaine finally gets to rid himself of his forgotten but still-pinching shoes, and then they lie back on top of his covers. Kurt’s head on the pillow opposite his isn’t something that only happened once, but for a second he’s transported back to their first time again, to Kurt so steady and sure and in love with him, and he feels all of the nerves and trepidation he’d felt that night taking that big step. He wants everything to be right. He wants everything to be perfect.

But then Kurt smiles at him and leans up over him for a kiss, not tentative at all, and all of the worries fade away. This _is_ perfect, because it’s them, and Kurt’s smile is reaching all of the way into his eyes and into Blaine’s heart.

They kiss for a long time just like that, pressed close together, mouths hot but hands roaming only over their clothes, giving and taking and rolling as needed. It’s far from chaste, not with Kurt’s erection snugged up against Blaine’s thigh and their breathing getting faster and faster as the minutes progress, but it’s slow.

Blaine likes slow. He likes fast, too, but he likes that he can push Kurt onto his back and kiss him until his toes are curling against the sheets and Kurt’s whimpering against his mouth and they’re both rock hard against each other and yet he still has all of the delicious unwrapping of Kurt’s body to go. They’re not rushing to the end; they’re enjoying every minute.

He feels a frisson of pride when Kurt’s the first to start tugging at his clothes, pulling his shirt out of his jeans and smoothing his hands up Blaine’s back, leaving trails of goosebumps behind.

“Blaine,” Kurt moans softly and immediately rolls them again, straddling Blaine’s legs and sitting up. He slips off Blaine’s tie with a practiced, sexy motion that feels like a direct stroke of Blaine’s erection and gets work on his buttons. Blaine watches him, dizzy with arousal and all too pleased with how glazed Kurt’s eyes are and how disarrayed his wonderful hair already is, and pets Kurt’s thighs as Kurt works, enjoying their strength and warmth beneath the fabric and the weight of Kurt’s body pressing him down into the mattress.

“I have _missed you_ ,” Kurt says and bends down to kiss Blaine’s breastbone as soon as he bares it, then down his abdomen and stomach as the buttons slip free. There’s no hesitation to any of it, not a hint of coyness, just open admiration.

“Should I be worried you’re saying that to my chest?” Blaine asks with a laugh as Kurt pushes his shirt fully open and runs his hands up Blaine’s chest. His touch is electrifying, making Blaine’s skin heat at its passage. There’s no reason for him to feel self-conscious in front of Kurt anymore; Blaine just lies back and enjoys the attention.

“I’m saying it to all of you,” Kurt tells him, kissing just beneath his navel, the heat of his breath making Blaine’s cock twitch in his pants. Kurt mouths at the spot and then kisses that sensitive, intimate spot again. “I’ve missed all of you.”

“Kurt - “ Blaine pleads, because his mouth is _there_ , and they have so many clothes on, and Kurt’s _teasing him_ , which is awesome and just completely not fair at the very same time.

“Hmm?” Kurt asks, his eyes wide and way too innocent. He kisses along the line of Blaine’s waistband toward his hip. “Is there a problem?”

Blaine drops his head back to the pillow and grins up at the ceiling, suddenly ebullient. They’re _doing this_. They’re _together_ and doing this, and it’s not one last time, it’s the first time of many, and it’s already so much better than everything they shared in February, because Kurt’s playing with him but with love, not with distance. “No problem at all. Really.”

Kurt kisses his stomach and chest, wet, open-mouthed, greedy kisses, his body settling between Blaine’s legs and his hands roving over Blaine’s skin. He slips Blaine’s belt free from its buckle and runs his palm over Blaine’s erection on top of his pants. “Mm, I can see that.”

“ _Oh_.” Blaine arches up into him and feels the weight of Kurt’s body pressing him back down again. It makes him shudder and clutch harder at Kurt’s shoulders, tugging at the cloth covering them. He was perfectly happy with slow, but the time for slowness is over.

“In a minute,” Kurt says, Blaine’s not quite sure to what. To Blaine’s hands, maybe, because the way Kurt works open his fly in a matter of seconds and pulls it open makes it clear he’s not asking Blaine’s dick to wait. He tugs at Blaine’s pants, shimmies them down a few inches on his hips, and pulls down the waistband of Blaine’s underwear so that his erection springs free.

Kurt breathes out slowly, his warm breath swirling around Blaine’s erection, and he leans in to kiss at the base, tender and soft. He makes a quiet sound, and then his tongue laps a slow stroke up his shaft.

“God, Kurt,” Blaine chokes out, because he’s used to more foreplay or warning or something, but this is _so fucking perfect_ with the way Kurt licks around the head. It’s so wet, so sudden, so full of _desire_. Kurt is focused for a minute, just holding him in his hand and tasting him with gentle strokes of his tongue. He takes the head inside his mouth for a long, breathless moment of utter bliss for Blaine, and then Kurt pulls back, his eyes dark, and looks up at Blaine’s face.

“I’ve missed you,” Kurt says again, his voice hoarse. His eyebrows draw together in something like worry. “I’m sorry if it’s making me - Is this okay?”

“It feels amazing,” Blaine tells him. He can’t help how his hips are twitching upwards in tiny rocking movements, ready for more. He wants Kurt’s mouth again. He wants Kurt’s everything. “Kurt, you’re amazing, but - Can we take off more clothes, maybe?”

Kurt’s answering grin looks a little forced, but he strokes Blaine’s hip and says, “Well, if you absolutely _insist_.”

“I want to touch you, too.”

Kurt nods and helps Blaine out of his pants and underwear and strokes up Blaine’s bare ankle with his fingertips before starting on the buttons of his own shirt.

“No, let me,” Blaine says, scrambling to kneel next to where Kurt is sitting on the bed. “And I insist about that, too.” He gets a more natural smile from Kurt and leans in to kiss him even as his fingers are slipping the first button free from its hole.

It’s not the most efficient way to get Kurt undressed, kissing him while doing it, but it’s definitely the best, because by the time Blaine pulls the last of Kurt’s clothes off, Kurt’s flushed and breathing hard, his eyes closed and his hand fisted in the pillow beneath his head as Blaine mouths up the inside of his newly bared leg.

“I want to kiss every inch of you,” Blaine tells Kurt’s ankle, his calf, the bend of his knee. He cradles Kurt’s long leg and caresses it. He can’t help it. It’s his again, as much as Kurt is ever anyone’s but his own, and he loves him _so much_ , every piece of him, everything that Kurt is and has and shows him and gives him, and he wants to touch him and taste him and make him feel good and sure and wanted and loved.

“I want you to,” Kurt replies, sliding his other foot up on the bed so that he’s leaning his leg against Blaine’s bare back, like he can’t bear not to be touching him back. “This time I really want you to.”

So Blaine does, kissing him tenderly, feeling his heart break and knit back together dozens of times over as he moves over Kurt’s body. His legs, his hips, the inside of his thighs, his stomach, his chest, the column of his throat, the back of his fingers and the curve of his wrists. And his mouth, his mouth, which murmurs endearments as Kurt caresses him back, curling around him to touch his shoulder, pet his hair, stroke his back, and meet his mouth every time Blaine draws near.

And when Blaine stretches out over him, pressed against him from chest to ankle, Kurt wraps himself around Blaine and kisses him hard, pours himself into the kiss in a way Blaine had begun to wonder he’d dreamed instead of remembered, and Blaine kisses him back, again and again until his lips are sore and his cock is throbbing and his heart is ready to burst.

“You really love me,” Kurt says, turning them over and stroking his hand down Blaine’s sweaty side.

“I do,” Blaine replies without a second of hesitation.

Kurt smiles and presses a kiss right over Blaine’s heart, moving downwards. “I know.”

Blaine gasps up at the ceiling as Kurt takes him into his mouth again, working the flat of his tongue against Blaine’s shaft and gently cupping Blaine’s balls in his palm. He’s slow, each movement decadent and honey-sweet, drawing out the pleasure. It’s tender but intense, maybe intense _because_ it’s so tender, so focused, so much about Kurt taking care of him.

“You’re so good at that,” Blaine says, cupping Kurt’s cheek. He can feel the stretch in Kurt’s jaw, the tautness of his skin from his mouth open around him, and he loves it. He loves knowing that this is _Kurt’s_ mouth, that Kurt feels him, too, thick on his tongue. It’s Kurt around him; Kurt wanting him inside.

Kurt pulls back a little, rubbing the head of Blaine’s dick against the roof of his mouth, and then sinks down again, sucking just enough around him. His tongue does something amazing that makes Blaine’s vision go dark for a second. He rolls his head on the pillow. “God, that feels so _good_.” He feels heavy and energized all at once, dazed, and he never wants to it to be over.

Kurt hums his agreement around him, and Blaine’s hips hitch upwards with the tantalizing vibration. He glides along Kurt’s slick tongue, feels his lips drag against him, and really, really wants more of it. God, he wants more.

“Sorry,” he says, but Kurt doesn’t stop, just keeps licking and sucking and kissing, taking him, working him with such intense sweetness until Blaine’s barely stopping himself from thrusting into his wet, wet mouth and chasing the orgasm that he so desperately is ready to reach. “ _God_.” He presses his arm over his eyes and tries to hold on. “ _Kurt_.”

“It’s okay,” Kurt says against his balls before dragging his closed mouth up Blaine’s shaft. “Let me take care of you.” Every touch is so careful and kind, like Kurt’s not just trying to make him feel good but like Kurt’s trying to _love_ him, and that’s almost more than Blaine can stand.

“Not like this,” Blaine says. He opens his eyes and blinks down at Kurt, who has grown more impossibly handsome in the past few minutes, as flushed and mussed as he is. “I mean, I could come in about two seconds, but - not like this. I want to feel you inside me.”

“We don’t have to do everything tonight,” Kurt says, but he’s already letting him go and climbing up over him, apparently just as happy with the idea.

Blaine flings his arms around Kurt’s neck and kisses him, open-mouthed and dirty and full of everything he’s feeling, because he doesn’t know how to hold back anymore and, thank god, doesn’t have to. “Fuck me,” he says, rutting a little against Kurt’s stomach.

Kurt smiles at him from an inch away and replies, “Is everything still in your drawer?”

“Nothing’s changed, Kurt,” Blaine tells him, meaning his supplies and so much more, because his heart is just as full and in love as it always was before they broke up, maybe even more now, and he’s rewarded with another smile before Kurt rolls away to get what they need.

Kurt is careful with him as always, peppering his skin with kisses as he opens Blaine up, and his touch is almost too much. It’s tender and overpowering, sweet, protective, filled with everything Blaine has been missing.

"You're incredible," Kurt murmurs as he kisses Blaine's trembling thigh, and Blaine unravels for him that much more.

In the past, the preparation process has helped Blaine cool down some, his erection flagging with the pressure of Kurt’s slippery fingers - or his own - stretching him, but tonight he stays hard, each tender stroke of Kurt’s thumb against his perineum making his cock twitch, each twist of Kurt’s fingers curling right up into his heart. Even the press of Kurt’s shoulder against his thigh feels amazing. The smell of his sweat. The sight of Kurt’s hair drooping over his forehead. The harsh, musical sound of his breathing. It’s all amazing. Too, too good.

It’s _Kurt_. With _him_. _With_ him.

And so when Kurt finally is back above him, kissing him eagerly before pushing into him - his voice low and awed, his cock huge and long and thick and _his_ \- Blaine can only screw his eyes shut and breathe, breathe, try to breathe so that the taut wire of arousal in his body doesn’t just snap from the way the width of Kurt’s body holds his legs open and his cock feels buried deep inside of him. It’s everything he’s wanted magnified by a million, it all feels so huge, god, it’s too much, too good, too _Kurt_ for him to be able to hold on, only he has to, he has to get his arms around Kurt’s back and his legs around his waist and feel it all. He wants to feel it all. He wants to _have_ him. He needs to. It can't be over yet.

“Blaine. _Blaine_.”

Blaine blinks his eyes open to find them swimming with tears, and Kurt’s biting his lip as he wipes away the moisture on Blaine’s cheeks with his thumbs, looking a hair’s breadth away from wild but still concerned.

“Are you okay?” Kurt asks him, so very gently.

"Yes. You feel perfect. Yes."

Kurt's breathing is hard, and his arms are shaking as they hold him up, but his eyes stay steady. "Blaine."

“It’s just really good, and I’m really close,” Blaine says, digging his heels into Kurt’s ass just to feel him sink in that much more. He can feel his whole body vibrate from head to toe just with that tiny quarter inch more pushing into him. Kurt’s _in_ him, so thick, so deep, so completely inside of him, wanting him, loving him, _showing him_ -

Blaine clamps down hard on his need to come and tries not to move under him. He can’t breathe, though. He can’t seem to get any distance from how good this feels, not just to his body but to his heart. He didn’t know being grateful could be so arousing. He didn’t know being happy could be. “Oh, _god_. I'm sorry. It’s just so good, and I want you so much, and I - I’ll find a way to - "

Kurt lifts up a little so that he can get his hand around Blaine's erection, and he says softly, “Let go, Blaine.” He rocks his hips forward, pushing Blaine’s erection into his fist. “I've got you now. It’s okay. Let go."

Blaine struggles for half of a second to keep control as his body tries to give in and his mind tells him not to. It’s so hard. He wants this so much. He wants it all to be perfect.

“It’s _okay_ ,” Kurt says again, and this time his words sink in.

Clutching at him, Blaine tells himself to listen. He knows he can trust Kurt, remembers that it doesn’t have to be perfect today because this isn’t something he needs to prove or the last time they’ll do it, and gives up the fight and lets _go_.

Everything he’s been holding back comes pouring out. He fucks down onto Kurt and starts to shake as his orgasm bursts out of him, rushes through him like a wave washes up onto dry sand, pouring over it in a rush before soaking into it, deep down below the surface, changing everything. He clenches tight around Kurt’s cock, his shoulders, everything he can hold onto as he shudders and gasps and grinds against Kurt’s amazing, gorgeous body and just lets go as wave after wave of pleasure courses through him.

It feels surprisingly monumental and yet as safe as anything, because he has Kurt to hold him through it.

When Blaine comes up for air again, drifting, he opens his eyes to find Kurt still above him, in him, balanced on one elbow and stroking his hair with his free hand. It feels lovely and tender, secure, but he can see how hard it is for Kurt not to be moving. He can see the tension in Kurt’s face, in the tight muscles of his stomach.

“I’m going to pull out now, okay?” Kurt tells him, still in that gentle voice, getting his weight back onto his knees.

Blaine flexes around him, making sure he’s not reading the situation wrong. He’s not; Kurt bites back a whimper and closes his eyes. “But you’re not done.”

“It’s all right,” Kurt says hoarsely. “I know you get so sensitive after.”

Blaine manages to get one of his arms working, every nerve ending still sparking with pleasure, and he runs his hand up Kurt’s sweat-damp arm to his shoulder. “No, I want to feel you. Come on, Kurt.”

Kurt’s eyes are intense when they open again, searching Blaine’s face, and then he leans forward and kisses Blaine lightly before starting to move again.

He isn’t wrong to remember how sensitive Blaine is after his orgasm, but the very same hypersensitivity that can make everything too much feels perfect to Blaine today. Blaine’s skin is on fire wherever Kurt touches it. His body is stretched out and alive around Kurt, aware in the best way of every thrust of his hips, every inch pushing into him, opening him up again and again to get what he needs, what Blaine can give him. His muscles are limp and all but useless, and yet that’s perfect, too, because he can just let Kurt bend him up or haul his hips into his lap, moving them until he’s found just the right angle.

Blaine can just hold on and feel it all. Feel him, every inch of him, every strong muscle and perfect inch of his skin. And it’s incredible.

Kurt’s face is tight as he works above him, his eyes watery, his skin flushed, sweat on his brow and his hair falling into his face. His rhythm is fast, like he’s almost finished, but his hands are restless - on Blaine’s face, his sides, his hips, his ass - and he thrusts deep and gasps against Blaine’s throat before kissing him there, like he’s not sure what he wants to be doing but doesn’t want to stop.

“Blaine,” Kurt chokes out. He sounds overwhelmed, maybe even lost.

“It’s okay,” Blaine murmurs, wrapping himself around Kurt, his arms over his shoulders and his legs cradling his hips. His body surges with a blood-deep thrill with each thrust of Kurt’s body into his, and he presses a desperately happy kiss into Kurt’s hair. “Kurt, it’s okay. You can let go, too.”

Kurt’s hips stutter, and he groans loudly against Blaine’s throat. Blaine rocks up to meet him, gasping at the extra stimulation on his already over-sensitive skin, and Kurt hooks his arms under Blaine’s shoulders, mouths at his jaw, and thrusts in hard, grinding deep. Blaine presses his fingers into Kurt’s back, squeezes his hips, and shivers as Kurt rocks and grinds and groans again before finally coming inside of him.

He’s quiet for a minute or two, just breathing and shaking with the aftershocks as Blaine holds onto him, and then he lifts his head and looks at Blaine with wet eyes. He smiles crookedly, flicks his damp hair out of his eyes, and presses his lips to Blaine’s, soft and tender, barely a kiss. “Okay?” he asks.

“Perfect,” Blaine tells him, chasing his mouth for another kiss, because he’s not ready not to be close.

Kurt’s smile grows a little more. “Yes.” There’s a peace in his expression that transcends the very good orgasm they both shared, and it calls to the same perfect peace Blaine finds in his own heart.

“Love you,” Blaine says against his lips.

“Mm,” Kurt breathes into the kiss. “I love you, too.”

They trade kisses for a little while until it’s absolutely imperative that they clean up, and Kurt carefully pulls free, drawing a shudder from them both. He raises his eyebrows as Blaine pushes himself onto his side and reaches for the drawer of his bedside table. “I still can’t believe you like those,” he says as Blaine pulls out the packet of baby wipes.

“It’s better than explaining to my mother why I use so many towels when you come over,” Blaine replies.

Kurt tilts his head in acknowledgement of the old, easy dispute and accepts the packet to clean them both up with gentle hands.

There’s no moment of awkwardness when he’s done, no pulling back, no hesitation of whether he should stay or not. Blaine just slides under the covers, and Kurt simply joins him, resting on his stomach with his arm over Blaine’s waist. He watches Blaine with a smile as Blaine strokes his fingers along Kurt’s arm, the fine hair on it tickling him as he fluffs it against the grain and smooths it back down.

“Are you okay?” Blaine asks him after a while when the desire to sleep immediately has passed out of his system. The silence is comfortable, but he still wants to talk.

“I’m happy,” Kurt says, two simple words, and then something in his eyes kind of shatters, like he’s going to cry.

“Hey,” Blaine says, turning toward him. “Hey, it’s okay, Kurt.”

Kurt nods and blinks hard. “It is. Blaine, I’m _happy_.” His smile lights him up as though a switch were thrown. There he suddenly is again, Blaine’s Kurt, the one he’s missed, absolutely radiant in a way Blaine hasn’t seen in so long. He slides into Blaine’s arms and hugs him tightly, his voice full of bubbling joy and gratitude. “I’ve missed you so much,” he says. “I _missed_ you.”

Blaine squeezes him back as best he can, given the angle. “I’ve missed you, too,” he says, and if his own words sound watery, he really doesn’t care. They’re _happy_. Kurt missed him, and he missed Kurt, and they’re together again.

“And now I don’t have to miss you anymore,” Kurt whispers, not letting him go.

“I’m not in New York yet,” Blaine says, as much as he hates to have to point it out. But they didn’t really face the reality of Kurt leaving the last time, and he doesn’t want to make that mistake again.

“That doesn’t matter.” Kurt pulls back far enough to see his face. “We won’t let it matter this time.”

Blaine can see the steely determination in Kurt’s eyes, and he is helpless to do anything but nod. He has to believe him. He isn’t going to let Kurt go again. There’s no way he’ll make the same mistakes.

“Good,” Kurt tells him. His eyes flick up over Blaine’s shoulder, and his face softens even more, to something gentle and nostalgic. He smooths his fingers down Blaine’s bare arm, just as gently. “You were busy this afternoon, putting those back.”

Blaine doesn’t have to look to know that he’s talking about the pictures of Kurt arranged neatly on his bedside table. Tina once called them a shrine, and maybe they were, a display of affection to something unreachable, but they’re not that anymore. They’re not something he is going to hurt to look at late at night, tears in his eyes and his heart aching in his chest. They’re just pictures of his gorgeous, loving, wonderful boyfriend, the man he loves. The man he always has loved. The man he always will.

“I never took them down,” he says softly.

Kurt cups Blaine’s cheek without a word and somehow looks sad and happy at the same time. He leans in to give Blaine a soft, painfully sweet kiss, and then lays his head back on the pillow once more.

They lie there as time stretches out, looking into each other’s eyes and trading caresses. It’s all so easy. It’s magical. It’s special. It’s just them, alone together in the world. Blaine doesn’t want to do anything to break the spell and loose this moment, but it’s not a worrying thought. He knows it will happen it again. This isn’t just a one time thing; this is forever. He knows it is.

After a while, Kurt’s eyes turn pensive. It’s a slow shift, but finally he takes a breath and says in a quiet voice, like he’s sharing a secret or afraid to break the moment or both, “I’m good at being in New York.”

Blaine acknowledges the statement with a sweep of his hand back up Kurt’s arm but doesn’t say anything. He just waits for the rest.

“I’m good at theater, and I’m good at fashion,” Kurt says, not without some pride. “I’m good at those worlds. I’m good at false friends, shifting loyalties, and catty smiles saying cutting things to my face or behind my back. When you’ve already faced down Santana or Karofsky, what are a couple of bitter future ensemble members?”

Blaine curls his hand over Kurt’s shoulder, holding him for a second, before continuing his soft caresses.

“I’m good at knowing my own mind and doing things my way,” Kurt says and then takes another slow breath. “I’m good at being alone.” His eyes go a little distant, a little sad. “I might not like it, but I’m good at it.”

On the next pass of his fingers down Kurt’s arm, Blaine takes Kurt’s hand in his, holding it carefully. He can easily imagine how complicated it has been for Kurt to navigate the mercurial environments around him, the professional level of high school gossip and mean girls (and boys), the isolation of being in a new city with only a few friends - and without Blaine at his side, no matter that he wanted to be there - and yet how well Kurt could handle himself through it all.

“Sometimes I think everything that happened in my life in Ohio prepared me for NYADA and Vogue,” Kurt says, focusing back on him. “For this year in New York.”

“You would have been incredible there anyway,” Blaine says.

Kurt’s shoulder lifts in a tiny shrug. “I don’t know. But I am,” he says, without a sliver of doubt. “Incredible.”

Blaine can’t help but smile at him. “I’ve always thought so.”

“Not _always_ ,” Kurt corrects, but he smiles back.

“Always,” Blaine replies, because even when Kurt had just been a beautiful boy on the stairs Blaine had been captivated by him. “I just didn’t know what to do about it.”

Kurt squeezes Blaine’s hand and brings their joined hands up to rest against the warm skin over his heart. “I’m good at New York, Blaine, and I love it there, but I’ve missed being good at _you_ ,” he says. “I’ve missed being good at being with you, at taking care of you, at being cared for by you.”

Blaine nudges his forehead against Kurt’s and strokes his thumb over Kurt’s hand in his. “You’re very good at it,” he says.

“I hope so,” Kurt says, a little thickly. “I feel like I am today. I know I’ll learn to be even better. Because I’ve missed _us_. So much.”

“Well,” Blaine says, raising Kurt’s hand to his mouth and kissing it gently. His heart feels like it could burst in his chest from gratitude, from love, from crazy amounts of joy. “Here we are.”

Kurt squeezes his eyes shut for a second, but he’s smiling again - bright as the sun, the answer to every dream Blaine’s ever had, perfectly, wonderfully Kurt - as he echoes, “Here we are.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am 100% spoiler-free! Please do NOT SAY ANYTHING TO ME ABOUT WHAT IS COMING AHEAD IN GLEE. Thank you! <3


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